Missing John, Mr Holmes?
by MyLifeInFandom
Summary: Sherlock arrives back at 221B Baker Street after three years. But instead of finding John he finds a mysterious stranger ready to let him solve the mystery of his missing blogger


He stood on the opposite side of the road, looking up at the building, appearing almost exactly the same as that day all those years ago. His scarf, of course, being a lighter shade of blue, worn out with wear and his coat was a little shorter. Sherlock Holmes had meant to return to 221B Baker Street a few months after everything had died down and people started forgetting. Because humans do that. But it had been three years and maybe, just maybe, John would still be at the flat.

Sherlock put one foot in front of the other until he reached the door and tried opening it. It didn't. Well, he still had the key and so he was well in his right to open it himself, wasn't he? Surely John would accept that Sherlock had to stay away for a long time for their own safety? John would still want to stay with him… Solve crimes… "Mrs Hudson?" he asked, looking around the dimly lit hallway. It was the same as ever. Nothing had changed… Except… Sherlock raced up the stairway and into the living room and there, on John's chair… He smiled to himself before sitting at his old spot. He had so missed this place. "Who are you?" He leaned forward, placing his head upon his hands, eyes fixed on the stranger intently. "Who I am, Mr Holmes, doesn't matter yet. I've been expecting you" the man said, robotically, no emotion showing on his face. Amusement flickered through Sherlock's eyes and he smiled a little "and where is the white cat, don't they all have them?" "What have you been watching? Not James Bond, I hope. Dear me." He had a cockney accent, edged with a slight commanded tone. Sherlock scoffed "Would you expect that from me? I was musing you. By the fact you're here, without any signs of forced entry" his eyes swept the room as he stood up "I should assume you have a key. I could say you live here now but you call me by the name 'Mr Holmes' as if you are acquainted with me and even dearest John has keepsakes. Everything in this room is how I left it, just about. My books, my science equipment, my skull, my-" he looked into the skull "- my cigarettes… Just how they were left and it, all gathering dust. It's all the same. But smell that, stranger. That smell is not one you would find in this room. He didn't wear any strong, overwhelming aftershave, like the one that is currently present, pouring off yourself and he went off Chinese after a certain incident so I have no idea why he'd be eating that… John hasn't been here for at least three days. Where is he?" The man in the chair cocked his brow and smirked a little "And you guess that from the smell?" "And the newspaper on the coffee table dated three days ago. And his key which is carelessly dangling from your coat pocket. You have a bruise on your face. You should get that looked at. Last person John punched for me got a broken nose. So I ask you again. WHERE IS JOHN?" The last question he asked in a raised voice and the stranger stood up, facing the mirror. "Well done, I'm impressed. Although, he did tell me about your abilities… You're like him." He turned around and glared into Sherlock's eyes "I'm finishing what Jim started, Holmes" he grinned and started laughing. Just for a second, Sherlock stopped. Jim Moriarty. The cause of the mess and the lies. The cause of the destruction of Sherlock's life. He was haunting him still and enjoying the pain. Sherlock pushed the man against the wall and held him there "calling the most dangerous boss you ever had by his first name? Not the most respectful move you've ever made, is it Sebastian Moran. I'm a very angry man so you answer my question, right now. Where is J-" "yes yes, John, your pet. You have to play the game, Holmes" Sebastian pushed Sherlock off him, effortlessly, and walked out the room before looking back. "And it's not just John, Mr Holmes. Jim taught me well. I have everyone. You'll be hearing from me" He started laughing and walked out the door. Sherlock stood still for a minute before sinking into the wrong chair…


End file.
